Compatibility
by trufflemores
Summary: Sleepy Kurt is cuddly . . . with everyone. Written for Keitorin Asthore. Kurt/Blaine. COMPLETE.
1. Compatibility Pt 1

Sleepy Kurt is cuddly … with everyone.

Written for **Caitlin**, aka **Keitorin Asthore.**

I absolutely adore her, so when I saw this prompt on her blog I couldn't resist.

The full prompt is:_ "I have a tendency that, when I get tired, I rub my face. It starts off as rubbing my eyes, then my face, then I start rubbing my face on things, like the couch or P's shoulder. I think Kurt need this quirk. Maybe he does it to everyone without realizing it."_

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or any of its characters; Ryan Murphy and Co. hold that honor. I'm simply writing this for fun, not profit. All recognizable dialogue belongs to Ryan Murphy and Co.

* * *

It's sweet and unexpected the first time it happens.

Blaine is skimming through his notes on _The Great Gatsby_, sitting cross-legged on his bed, when he feels a gentle weight settle against his shoulder. Surprised, he looks over, only to find Kurt with his cheek comfortably nuzzled against his navy blazer. He waits for a moment to see if Kurt will realize how close he is and pull back - _you're just friends, you're not boyfriends - _but all Kurt does is rub his cheek against his shoulder in a slow, even motion, breathing out softly in contentment. Baffled by the unexpectedly affectionate behavior - Kurt has never cozied up to Wes or David or any of the other Warblers like this, despite their similarly close friendships - Blaine slowly releases his grip on his notebook, his thumb lightly tracing circles against Kurt's side, eliciting a soft sigh.

"You okay?" he asks after a suitable amount of time has passed without any confirmation from Kurt that this is acceptable. He reaches up a hand to rub Kurt's arm, wondering if he's coming down with something and perhaps feeling a little under the weather because of it.

A doe-eyed stare meets his gaze before Kurt jerks upright, pulling away abruptly. "I'm sorry," he says, scrambling to pick up the papers he's left scattered around the bed. "I should - I should go -"

"Hey, hey, it's fine," Blaine assures, trying to stop Kurt's frantic backpedaling by making placating gestures with his hands. "I don't mind. Really."

Kurt lifts a skeptical eyebrow at him before forcing rest of his notes into his satchel, slinging it over one shoulder. His gaze softens as he takes in Blaine, the latter watching him with bemused curiosity. "I should go," Kurt insists, quiet and apologetic. "My dad wanted me back before dark, anyway. Friday night dinners and everything."

Blaine nods, still looking at Kurt in mild confusion and amusement as he scurries out of the room, narrowly avoiding tripping over the laundry basket set by the door. "Sorry," Kurt says, a sheepish smile gracing his lips even as he closes the door behind him.

It doesn't happen again for almost a week. Kurt and he haven't seen each other as much due to finals and other obligations, but somehow they squeeze in a movie night and they're both cuddled on top of Blaine's Dalton bed again when Blaine feels the same warm weight drop against his shoulder.

Rather than panicking or making a move to draw attention to it, he stays as he is, a tiny smile quirking his lips upward at the way Kurt's cheek rubs over the neatly-pressed fabric in slow, even strokes. It takes a few minutes before his eyes flutter closed, Blaine's heart skipping a beat as he chances a glance at him. Almost as soon as it begins, however, Kurt jerks awake and the moment is gone.

Blaine sighs slightly in frustration as Kurt makes excuses to leave, smiling reassuringly and promising to meet him for coffee the next morning.

It's like he's drawn to it from then on, hypnotized by the little gestures that Kurt makes when he's tired. The way Kurt rubs his eyes first, innocent and cherubic. Every time he catches Kurt doing it - usually during their late afternoon 'study sessions' that usually dissolve into movie nights or just meaningless chatter - he wants to cup Kurt's cheeks and kiss him on the nose and cuddle him until they both fall asleep. He refrains from doing any of that, largely because he knows that Kurt will freak out and also because he's a good friend that knows not to cross boundaries, especially so early in his friendship with Kurt.

Still, it's more difficult to keep his responses purely standoffish as he watches the natural progression of Kurt's fatigue evolve. They start as light, barely noticeable rubs of his eyes and quickly advance to curling up beside Blaine and rubbing his cheek against his shoulder sleepily. Keeping his hands determinedly at his sides the first few times it happens, Blaine allows himself to wrap an arm around Kurt's waist after one occasion when Kurt doesn't protest. The warm, happy sound that escapes his throat makes Blaine's stomach clench, and he has to fight back the urge to just pull Kurt close and never let the world hurt him.

Because the world is cruel, and Blaine knows that Kurt knows that all too well. Even with the Karofsky situation finally under control, he can't help but feel like he hasn't done enough to protect Kurt. His horror at Karofsky's reaction has only calmed down to a brooding simmer with time; he still hasn't fully accepted the fact that Kurt doesn't blame him for leading him down that path in the first place, for telling him that courage alone would somehow be able to protect him.

Shutting his eyes, Blaine listens to Kurt's breathing slowing, little puffs of breath washing over his shoulder intermittently. His eyes are still at half-mast, studiously watching the movie Blaine put in an hour ago, but Blaine knows that his heart isn't in it. Kurt rubs his cheek against his shoulder a few times, seemingly unable to help himself, before burrowing against the back of Blaine's shoulder-blade and resting his forehead against it.

Blaine doesn't move for the rest of the movie, smiling slightly to himself.

_"Tired?" Blaine asks, smiling, as he holds out his arms to Kurt. The latter takes three steps into his room, depositing his satchel on the floor and smiling before sinking into the embrace. He toes off his shoes and kicks them aside, shrugging a little at Blaine's question._

_"Like you wouldn't believe," he murmurs, nuzzling Blaine's collarbone. "Rachel wouldn't stop nattering on and on about how she's going to single-handedly win us nationals. And she's also annoyed that Santana and Brittany are rooming together while she and Finn can't." He yawns, interrupting himself, before continuing, "I just wish it was nationals already. I want to be in New York. I want to see Broadway. I'm tired of listening to everyone gripe about how we can't win."_

_"You can win," Blaine points out, rubbing his shoulders as he leads them back to Kurt's bed. They've never had sex and so it's innocent, with Kurt smiling amusedly against his shoulder and letting Blaine pick at the buttons of his outermost jacket. "You just need to . . . relax."_

_Kurt lifts an eyebrow at the suggestiveness of the idea, Blaine's face heating a little as he stammers, "Not like that! We don't have to do anything . . . sexual." And for someone who seems so suave and collected normally, his embarrassment is amusing to behold._

_Chuckling, Kurt brushes his hand over his cheek, cupping it and placing a kiss on his nose. "I know," he assures. "Maybe we could just . . . cuddle?"_

_"Yeah," Blaine says, smiling at him. "Yeah, cuddling sounds good. Perfect."_

_It doesn't take long before the true exhaustion from the day makes Kurt sag against Blaine from where they've haphazardly wrapped themselves around each other. Kurt rubs the side of his head gently against Blaine's, the nearest place he can reach with his chin resting on his shoulder. He knows that his dad will be back soon and they'll have to find a more secluded setting to do this, but the smile that graces Blaine's lips is more than worth the risk._

_"Thank you," Kurt says._

_"You're welcome," Blaine replies softly._

"Dude, um, Kurt?"

Kurt blinks, coming back to full consciousness slowly, his mouth slightly agape and his head resting on Puck's shoulder. "Ohmygod," he blurts out, jolting away from him. "I'm so sorry."

"Relax," Puck says, waving a hand dismissively. "We were just talking about our setlist for sectionals."

"But I thought Rachel had that all planned out?" Kurt asks, frowning as he rubs the back of his neck. He feels a hand slink its way around to rest on the middle of his back and startles before relaxing as he realizes that it's Blaine.

"She does," Artie confirms, "but we can't let her have her way."

Their discussion dissolves into reasons why Rachel shouldn't be allowed to command Glee club, with Finn occasionally putting in that she's not _that _bad. Kurt hardly notices that he's almost dozed off again until he feels the soft, almost woolly fabric of Blaine's cardigan underneath his cheek.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asks for his ears alone as the rest of the guys continue to heatedly debate the merits of performing Michael Jackson at sectionals. "You look tired."

"'m not," Kurt insists, ignoring the slight slur to his voice.

Blaine's chuckle is amused and goodnatured as he wraps an arm around Kurt's waist and gives it a squeeze.

It isn't until Blaine leaves ten minutes later to pick up his things from his locker that Kurt sighs with disappointment, watching him go with sad eyes before letting his cheek brush against the nearest shoulder to him.

"Annnnd he's gone again," Puck says with a sigh, continuing to gesticulate freely as he speaks with Kurt snuggled up to his shoulder.

He doesn't make the mistake of cuddling up to anyone other than Blaine again until Sugar Motta's birthday party. All of the girls (plus Blaine and him because 'Blaine's a cutie and you're super adorable') attend the sleepover. It's more fun than Kurt expects, with music and games and food provided extravagantly by Sugar's father. By the time they've all managed to find various nooks and crannies in the living room to sleep in, Kurt's lucky to find his boyfriend among the chaos of limbs and blankets and brightly colored pillows. He's lying with his head in Brittany's lap, eyes closed, letting her pet his curls with a smile on his face.

Kurt rolls his eyes at the sight, amused. "You would do anything for a head-rub," he mumbles, shimmying down until he can lie next to Blaine. He hesitates for a moment before giving in to temptation and resting his head on Blaine's belly. It rises and falls gently with each breath and Kurt hums slightly, rubbing his cheek against it to show his appreciation.

"Do you always do that?" Blaine asks.

"Shush," Kurt retorts, snuggling closer.

"You have magical sheep hair," Brittany comments absentmindedly. "It's like . . . super small on the outside and woolly on the inside."

Kurt snorts a laugh even as Blaine says calmly, "That's because I don't have hair gel in it right now, Britt."

"No one calls Brittany 'Britt' but me," Santana quips, kicking Blaine's leg from where she's lounging against the couch. Blaine grunts but doesn't move, only sighing a little longingly when Brittany shifts away to cuddle up with Santana.

Kurt doesn't know how much time passes before he wakes up. He knows that it's late at night and far too early to be even semi-conscious, but the solidarity that has been underneath him has been replaced by something else. He blinks sleepily at the object and realizes with a start that he's been nuzzling Brittany's shoulder. She doesn't react to it, her head resting against Santana's and her arm wrapped around her waist.

Looking around, Kurt smiles fondly as he spots Blaine sprawled on his stomach, Tina resting close to his head with Rachel latched onto his back like a marmot. He lets out a soft, sleepy noise of protest when he tries to roll over and finds himself inhibited by Rachel's position.

Amused, Kurt closes his eyes and leans his head against Brittany's shoulder, deciding that there are definitely worse places that he could be.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Review?**


	2. Compatibility Pt 2

_Continuation of _Compatibility.

Sleepy Kurt is cuddly … with everyone.

Written for **Caitlin**, aka **Keitorin Asthore.**

I absolutely adore her, so when I saw this prompt on her blog I couldn't resist.

The full prompt is:_ "I have a tendency that, when I get tired, I rub my face. It starts off as rubbing my eyes, then my face, then I start rubbing my face on things, like the couch or P's shoulder. I think Kurt need this quirk. Maybe he does it to everyone without realizing it."_

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or any of its characters; Ryan Murphy and Co. hold that honor. I'm simply writing this for fun, not profit. All recognizable dialogue belongs to Ryan Murphy and Co.

* * *

"Porcelain!"

Kurt jolts upright, narrowly avoiding clubbing Quinn in the chin with his head. "I did not give permission for any cat naps!" Sue Sylvester bellows, still holding the megaphone close to her mouth. "If I catch anyone else attempting to catch some shut eye on my watch, they will run an extra fifteen laps around the field! Now I wanna see those legs moving!"

Moving slowly, doing his best not to groan as stiff muscles stretch, Kurt shakes his head a little in disbelief before settling into a brisk jog beside Quinn.

He doesn't know what inspired him to rejoin the Cheerios for their mid-season tournament. Maybe he was proud that he could still fit into his old uniform without having to bump up to another size. Or maybe he simply enjoyed the strenuous workouts that left him with a satisfyingly exhausted feeling by the end of the day. Either way, the look of almost reverence on Blaine's face when Kurt first revealed his uniform was worth the unexpected reunion.

Still, he had been enjoying a rather lovely impromptu nap on Quinn's shoulder when Coach Sylvester's war cry rang out.

Looking around, he notices that most of the girls are still jogging along the track, exhausted but determined. Almost all of them are so close that they are nearly sisters - still fearless and fiesty on the outside, but close and protective within the tightly-knit unit - and Kurt fits into the supporting role of male performer easily. Once the male cheerleader that came down with bronchitis returns for the last competition, Kurt will gladly surrender his position as temporary replacement. Until then, he almost enjoys the brutal routines.

"So what - are you - and Blaine - doing - for Prom?" Quinn asks conversationally.

"I don't know yet," Kurt huffs, quickening his pace as Sue continues to crack the verbal whip. "I still have to coordinate our outfits."

"No kilt?"

"No," Kurt admits, only a slight tinge of sadness in his voice. Their conversation dwindles off as Coach Sylvester howls across the field for them to move it. Fearing her wrath otherwise, Kurt willingly matches the pace of the other Cheerios, glad that he hasn't lost his endurance over time.

By the time practice draws to a close, Kurt is rubbing his eyes almost incessantly. He notices Quinn watching from the corner of his eye and offers her a wry smile as he drops his hands. He brushes the worst of the sweat from his arms with a clean towel in the locker rooms, wrinkling his nose at the thought of showering down here. He knows that none of the other boys mind doing so, and most of the girls take advantage of their respective showers as well, but there's something about public showers that still makes his skin crawl.

He hurries to collect his belongings before Sue can catch him 'dawdling' and make him run another few laps to 'trim those pear hips.'

Blaine is already waiting in the parking lot, leaning against the side of his red Jeep and soaking in the afternoon sun, a warm smile on his face as he spots Kurt. Kurt sashays across the parking lot, offering a broad grin in return as he pecks Blaine's lips quickly, giving his hands an equally fleeting squeeze before ducking into the passenger side of his car.

"So, how was practice?" Blaine asks, sliding into the driver's seat as Kurt begins fiddling with the dashboard, adjusting everything to his preferences.

"Exhausting," Kurt says, "but also kind of fun." Before the sprints, that was. Coach Sylvester let them break out the jump ropes as an homage to one of their more successful routines in the past before those. Though Kurt couldn't say that his improvement was phenomenal, he was better-coordinated than his younger self, and so the jump-roping wasn't as punishing as he was expecting. It was almost fun, once he fell into a rhythm, and even with the laps around the field to dampen his overall jocularity, his good mood persisted.

Kurt almost misses the fact that they've reached his house until a crackle of thunder awakens him. He blinks groggily, surprised, and looks up at the sky, baffled by the change. "Where'd that come from?" he mutters inanely, unbuckling his seat belt slowly and letting Blaine take his hands and tug him gently from the car.

It's a simple matter to get inside his house and toe off his shoes. He gratefully accepts Blaine's assistance in removing the jacket he's drawn carefully over his shoulders after practice. With a light, almost teasing pat to his hip and a gentle nudge towards the stairs, Blaine admonishes, "Go take a shower."

Kurt grumbles something incoherent in reply, dragging his feet and slouching his shoulders. His previous enthusiasm waned and his endurance tempered with time, he sloughs through his routine, barely managing to keep his eyes open enough to distinguish between shampoo and conditioner bottles in the shower itself. He hums absentmindedly to himself as he scrubs off the workout of the day, soaking it through his hair and only startling a little as another grumble of thunder nudges him along.

He steps out of the shower refreshed and cleansed, pulling one of the downy towels around his hips as he walks through his skin care routine. It only takes a few minutes before he's tugging on a comfortable pair of pants and a loose-fitting shirt, dragging on some socks and styling his hair back into its usual coif.

Yawning to himself and rubbing the back of his neck, he blinks in surprise as he steps out of the bathroom and smells the warm waft of cookies from below. He can smell the faintest whiff of cinnamon mingling with a rich chocolate flavor. Humming contentedly, he pads downstairs and smiles at Blaine as he teases the tray out of the oven with a single oven mitt, offering Kurt a smile as he spots him by the threshold.

"You're perfect," Kurt murmurs, approaching and grazing his cheek against Blaine's shoulder once, companionably. He settles into a rhythm, however, his cheek brushing back and forth against the material until a gentle hand cups his cheek and the surface underneath it moves. Kurt sighs at the loss, quieting when Blaine kisses his lips once, tenderly.

"You're adorable."

"And you're too good for me," Kurt replies, picking a cookie off the tray gingerly and relishing the way it almost melts in his hand. "When did you learn to become such a good chef?" he adds, chewing along the edges of the cookie and willing it to last.

Blaine chuckles, slinging his arms around Kurt's waist and shrugging modestly. "Practice," he says simply, smiling up at Kurt.

Smiling back, Kurt steals a pair of cookies before leading them one-handedly towards the living room. Familiarity makes it easy for them to settle comfortably on the couch, limbs entangled and Kurt's long legs making room for Blaine's in between. Kurt bites off small pieces of his cookies, occasionally offering them to Blaine, who playfully accepts from his fingertips. When the crumbs are gone and there's nothing left, however, they seem to sink down even further against the couch, holding each other close until it's difficult to say who's supporting who.

"I love you," Blaine murmurs against his collarbone. Kurt feels his heart skip a beat as the same warm, familiar wash of pleasure tides over him.

"I love you, too."

* * *

**Author's Notes: Review?**


End file.
